Amaranthine
by sablize
Summary: This is the day the story of Rose is finally told.  Slightly AU.


**Title:** Amaranthine (1/1)

**Author:** sablize

**Spoilers:** Not many.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own a thing.

**A/N:** Not what I was going to post today, buuuuut yeah. Wrote this ages ago and finally decided to post it. The other fic I was going to write will be here soon, hopefully. Sorry in advance for any historical inaccuracies, I tried to do my research, but I guess we'll see. For now, enjoy(: For Day 6 of Women Love Fest on Livejournal.  
>*Technically rendered AU by 2x12, but this is me, not caring.<p>

(Sorry, I can't believe I forgot to post this yesterday!)

* * *

><p>It is 1329, in the height of springtime, and the Lady Rosemarie de Piriton is seven years old.<p>

"You can't go into the woods, Rosie," reprimands her brother Johannes, aged nine. He stands where a wooden fence separates the trees and undergrowth from the rest of their rather large property, like an ancient sentinel warding off the gloom of the forest.

His sister, all dark brown locks and hazel eyes and growing frown, asks, "Why?"

"Because," replies Johannes, with a self-satisfied smirk, "you have to be at least ten years old. Which you are not."

"Neither are you, Johannes!"

He laughs and ducks as she takes a swing at him with one small fist. "I will be in a few days, little sister."

Rose pouts. "You'd better let me come, or I'll tell Mother."

Her brother laughs again, but she can see the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. "Okay then, come along, Rosie."

She smiles wide, then grabs the fence and hoists herself over. She lands on her knees, staining her red dress with mud from the previous day's rain, but Johannes helps her up and they run off together to explore the wonders of the never-ending forest.

This was the day she fell in love with the woods.

Johannes is fourteen: strong, handsome, with dark eyes and brown hair that is usually all over the place. Rosemarie, now eleven, wears her hair in an elegant bun and has expensive silk dresses and is learning to read, but she still follows her brother over the fence as often as she can.

One afternoon, sometime in late summer, Rosemarie is escaping lessons and Johannes is escaping the heat. They go deep, deep into the woods, further than they've gone before. Here, the growth and vegetation is untouched by humans and the siblings' own footprints and the place they come to rest at—a small stream, crossed by a fallen tree perfect for sitting, and ground covered by a carpet of moss and fallen leaves— is so peaceful, Rose just wants to lie down and fall asleep there.

They spend hours by the brook. Johannes teaches her how to draw flowers on some spare parchment found in his pocket, and Rose teaches him how to whistle like a bird. Time ceases to exist until they realize the sun is setting.

As they prepare to leave, Rose notices something else: ten feet away, they are being stared down by a wolf.

"Johannes," she hisses, nudging her brother's arm. When she has his attention, she points.

They stare for what seems to be minutes upon minutes, but really must be only a few seconds, until Johannes tugs at her hand and says, "_Run_."

Rose doesn't hear the wolf follow as they take off through the underbrush, but still she runs all the harder, her brother hurrying in front of her. They are still linked by the hand; she squeezes his so tightly she prays his fingers won't fall off. Eventually they reach the fence, clamber over, and sink to the ground, panting. There is no wolf behind them.

When they return to the house, their mother is equal parts furious and terrified. She urges their father to go out after the animal and he does, accompanied with a handful of other men from all over the estate. Rosemarie, Johannes, and their mother wait worriedly by the door until he returns, when the half-full moon is high in the sky, with the dead wolf. It saddens Rose to see the creature's fate, for it meant no harm to them in the first place.

The siblings are punished, though they do gain fur linings for their clothes from the wolf's fur. Relatively speaking, they get off fairly easy, considering the fact that the wolf could have attacked them and killed them. One aspect of their punishment, however, leaves Johannes merely disappointed, but Rose devastated.

This was the day she was no longer allowed in the woods.

Lady Rosemarie is now fifteen.

It's who-knows-how-late when she sneaks out of the house. Lantern in hand, she tiptoes down to the fence in her worn leather boots, slips over it, and follows the familiar path to the stream. Sitting on the worn old log, watching the brook running beneath her reflect the moonlight, scattering the image like broken glass… it is peaceful.

She lays back on the trunk and watches the sky above her. She could almost fall asleep in the quiet of the slumbering forest, and she very nearly does.

There is only one thing missing: her brother. Nowadays, however, he would be angry if she woke him at this time of night to go traipsing off to the woods. _A child's game_, she can imagine him saying. They are not children anymore. Oh, how she wishes they were.

She pretends he is lying beside her. She lifts an arm and points at the stars, naming the constellations into the empty night air. Much to her disappointment, he does not answer her thoughtful musings, nor does he correct her, as she has come to expect, when she starts naming other things: the kinds of trees around her, the types of clouds that are suddenly appearing in the sky. Then she remembers he is not beside her at all and chides herself for being so foolish. She concentrates on the dark clouds now rolling in, banishing all thoughts of Johannes from her mind.

It starts to rain. She sits up and shields her lantern with her cloak, then slides off the log and starts the walk home.

For a second, she looks back. The rain hits the stream like teardrops, shattering no image but that of the dark sky above. It looks so forlorn, she very nearly turns around and goes back. She doesn't. But she wants to.

This was the day she realized she never wanted to be alone.

"Johannes!" Rosemarie cries out, voice breaking. It is 1345. Her brother has gone missing.

A servant named Simon is with her, carrying a lantern to ward off the suffocating darkness, even though the moon was full a few days ago. The trees are still heavy with leaves and the sky is cloudy. The forest is dark and empty, and something about it tonight is unsettling.

Rose can hear the rest of her family and servants crashing along in the woods around her but has never felt more alone in her life. "Johannes!" She wipes the tears from her cheeks, trying her best to be subtle about it. Simon still manages to see it, and comments.

"We'll find him, miss. Don't worry."

She opens her mouth to respond when she hears a branch snap behind her, and realizes she can no longer hear her family except for a few calls in the distance.

"Miss, everyone is going back," says Simon. Rose ignores him, instead concentrating on the sounds of the forest. It is quiet for a few seconds until she hears the sound of a branch breaking again, closer this time. And again. Whomever—or whatever— it is, it's very close now, back and to her left.

Behind her, Simon screams.

"Simon?" Rose calls, panicking now. She picks up the lantern where it had fallen from his grasp and shines it around her in a wide circle. "Who is there? Show yourself!"

She doesn't stick around, however; the second another twig breaks, she bolts. She doesn't stop until she is by the familiar old stream, her feet having carried her there automatically. Sitting on the fallen trunk, she tries her best to regain her breath. There is another crack. Her eyes dart up, wary and wide open in fright, and a man steps out of the darkness.

"_Johannes!_" She launches herself into her brother's arms. He looks a little worse for the wear but she's just glad he's alive. For the past few days she'd dreamt of the things in the forest: wild boars, wolves, thieves… or worse (one option she didn't dare look more into, to spare herself the nightmares).

He hugs her quickly. "Rosie, you must get out of here," he says with no trace of relief at seeing her. She searches his face intently. He looks frightened, until his eyes shift to a point above her shoulder.

Then he looks terrified.

Everything happens far too fast. One second Johannes is drawing her closer, pleading with the mysterious person behind her; the next, Rose is in someone else's arms, and pain suddenly explodes on the side of her neck. The dark woods slides in and out of focus. She fears she may collapse when she finds herself on the ground, pushed away from the stranger by her brother. They fight above her in the strangest fashion, so quickly all she can see is blurs; she figures it is her eyes, woozy and disoriented from blood loss, for the gash in her neck is quite substantial.

Now she hears splashes. Looking up she finds her brother by the stream, attempting to drown the strange man in the dark water. When he goes still, Johannes rushes to her side. He examines her neck with careful fingers, then nods, as if reaching a decision.

"I'm so sorry for this, Rose." He sinks his teeth into his own wrist, drawing a pool of blood. He gives her an apologetic look before lowering his arm to her mouth. She is far too weak by now to resist it, and lets the blood slide down her throat with only a small whimper. Within seconds, the pain in her neck disappears. Her hand reaches for it automatically; she is surprised to find the injury has disappeared completely.

Suddenly, the tip of what looks to be a thick branch pierces her brother's heart from behind.

Rose can only gape in shock as he collapses to the ground beside her.

His skin turns ashen gray and his body grows still, but he cannot be dead. She refuses to believe it. He is her brother, Lord Johannes de Piriton, the one person in her life who has always been there for her, her rock, her guide, her companion, and _he cannot be dead_ because God would not allow it, and Rose would not allow God to allow it.

There is a noise above her. A laugh, one of a hunter who has cornered his prey. Rose refuses to meet the man's eyes, for she doesn't want to know how he is still breathing after being drowned in the brook and doesn't want to stare at her own death. He hauls her up by an arm. She does not struggle, still captivated by the sight of her brother so lifeless.

The man laughs again and tilts her chin up. She catches a glimpse of his eyes, half-mad with an emotion or illness she cannot place, and notices the right side of his face is covered in a painful looking rash. Then, the world goes dark.

This was the day Lady Rosemarie de Piriton died.


End file.
